Lost: Crossover
by Thor2000
Summary: Lost reborn with the characters replaced with characters from CSI, Bones, Criminal Minds, Big Bang Theory, According To Jim, Ghost Whisperer, Scrubs, Good Luck Charlie, Two And A Half Men, et al.
1. Chapter 1

His eyes opened to long dark lines extending into infinity of green and black and white spread out before him. He wasn't sure where he was or what happened. Who was he? The last thing he recalled he was standing at the terminal at the airport, his best friend by his side directing his gaze to a shapely blonde heading toward her flight, possibly the same one they were taking. His mind was a bit dazed, his memories a jumbled mess. His insides felt like a broken glass. Maybe he was dead. He smelled the scent of wet grass, the myriad odors of different plants and the embracing smell of rotting wood. Crickets chirped their cacophony of voices. He started moving. His side felt as if it were on fire. A bolt of lightning raced up his spin as his legs groaned in pain. What had happened? Where was he? Slowly, his beleaguered head turned left and right. It looked like a jungle. The lines he saw shooting forward were the high tree trunks of old palms rising to their sky; their thick canopy of leaves blotting out the sky. He started stumbling away from the shock of pain in his side toward his right hip struggling to get up. He wasn't sure how he'd got here, but he knew he wasn't staying. Staggering to his feet, his left hand dipped into his left jacket pocket and pulled out two miniature bottles of Scotch. He had been drinking. Maybe that explained how he found himself laid out on his back in the middle of the jungle.

A woman's scream grabbed his attention and his head jerked to the right. Someone was in trouble. Ignoring instinct, he raced to the only other sounds of humanity. His feet hurting him carried him to the sounds. Where did they come from? Possibly the beach… The running figure charged over land as fast as he could, hastening onward like the Minute Men of old but without the musket and the uniform. At the tree line, the full dose of sunlight blinded him and he saw nothing but empty beach and white sand before an endless horizon of ocean, a band of dark blue stretched as far as the eye could see. There was not a sight of humanity but for the water hitting the reef, but then the screams came again from beyond the high bushes to his right. Ignoring a respite to catch his breath, he rushed toward the melee and upon round the thick foliage he came to the sickening realization of what had happened…

A huge passenger plane rested upside down on the beach where it had crashed. One wing thrust into the air with a torn and ripped wheel gear; it's other wing spread out across the beach into the water, its jet turbine still roaring on the last inklings of jet fuel being pumped from its shattered tanks. It looked like a giant decapitated metal bird still trying to claw its way into the sky. Around it people were stumbling or walking around in a gaze.

One girl held her gashed abdomen closed but wandered around screaming for her family.

Husbands screamed for wives; wives called for missing husbands to give them solace.

Scattered and spilled luggage surrounded the plane with pieces of jagged and ripped metal pointing skyward.

A young man of Hindu descent wandered around in a daze looking for his best friends.

The jet turbine on the beach continued screaming over the voices on distress and terror.

A father staggered and wandered in circles looking for his son.

A red-haired girl still strapped to her seat laid on her side in shock struggling to free herself.

Through the debris, a man in a casual suit raced through guiding the others away from the plane. He helped the girl out of her seat belt, hoisted her up by his shoulder and guided her to an Asian man to get to safety. He was taking a position of authority. He was either the plane's air marshall or some other person of authority. His head noticed his watcher and broke his trance.

"You! I need your help!" It was a matter or urgency. He grabbed a few other confused survivors and joined the other men trying to lift part of the downed wing. There was a man pinned under it. He was clawing and fighting to free himself; the turbine over him screaming louder and lower as it burned up the last of its fuel. Two more guys joined the first five and they started fighting to lift the wing or dig out their fellow passenger. Another creak sounded from the downed wing and the man was jerked free from his would-be grave.

"He's got internal injuries!" The younger man looked around. "Turk, where are you?" His eyes spanned the melee of people staggering around or racing into the woods for help that didn't come.

"Are you a doctor?"

"Dr. John Dorian… medical doctor…"

"You'll have to do…"

"I'm not a surgeon!"

"You'll do until we find one." Police lieutenant Mac Taylor patted the young physician to give him confidence. "Try and help as many as you can!"

"Excuse me…" One of the other rescuers stopped Mac. "Have you seen a boy? His name's Jake and he's…"

"Sir, there's a lot of people wandering through the jungle." Taylor saw the girl with the slashed stomach. He checked another body lying in the sand, but they were already dead, another casualty out of almost a hundred. He noticed the blood staining the girl's top.

"Young lady, how bad are you hurt?" The screeching turbine was getting worse.

"I can't find my family." The girl was in shock. "My little sister, Charlie…"

"I got her…" Someone came to help her.

"You the surgeon?"

"Jim Clancy, I'm a paramedic!"

"Get her looked after then…" Out the corner of his eye, someone staggering out of the surf was sucked into the turbine and it exploded. It's screeching and caterwauling shrieks were eliminated with one loud ball of flame and light spraying even more wreckage. Hot pieces of metal shot out spraying in every direction either striking survivors or making strange dances across the ripped and disheveled sands. Their routes indiscriminately seared through the people barely injured and buried into the already dead. It also vibrated loose what little braces was holding the jutting wing into the air. Following the waning scream came the growing groan of the collapsing plane and detective Kimball Cho came charging to the rescue again. He lunged at the last moment and grabbed the man in front of him, throwing him to the sand as the last intact part of the plane tried squashing the last of it's survivors scattering to get out from under it. Taken from the air, the fallen passenger plane died on that white South Pacific beach; the tip of it just coming inches of striking a resident from Pasadena. A physics expert from the California Institute of Technology, Rajesh Koothrappalli stopped looking for his colleges and noticed the giant metal wing very nearly crushing him into the beach. Even in that moment of near disaster, passengers wandered around looking for friends or family and searching for signs of civilization. A hut, a road, a building in the distance… there had to be another sign of life on this island. Dr. Dorian was trying to be a surgeon by sewing up the slashed abdomen of Teddy Duncan from Denver with a needle and thread from one of the suitcases. He didn't have any painkillers to keep her from feeling the pain, and all through her misery she kept asking if anyone had seen her sister or family. Jim was wrapping the arm of Peter Brady from Los Angeles, California, it was the umpteenth fractured bone he had guessed without a x-ray machine and more and more people were coming with gashes to the head or limping on possibly broken legs. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed someone trying to do an artificial restoration.

"You're not doing it right!" He hurried over. The victim was a brunette middle aged woman pulled from the water. "Let me do it!" He looked briefly around the carnage of confusion and wreckage, the wandering survivors and checked the woman's air pipe. It wasn't blocked, but he knew the right point to apply pressure.

"She wasn't breathing." Howard Wolowitz, another physicist from Cal Tech, stood aside embarrassed. "I thought I could…"

"Never do CPR if you don't know what you're doing!" Jim pounded her chest and pumped her diaphragm three times then gave her three quick breaths. Three more thrusts to her chest, three more breaths to her lips…

"Jill…" Someone knew the patient in the sand. "Jill! That's my wife!"

"She is?" Howard looked to him. "She's a beautiful woman."

"What?"

Jill finally found her breath and woke up coughing and gasping for air. Jim checkered her pulse to his watch as Tim Taylor dropped to his wife's side. The trip to Sidney was supposed to be a second honeymoon, but if they had just went to the Detroit Auto Works like he had wanted, they would not have been to in a plane crash over the South Pacific. The delirious mother of three boys looked to Jim checking her pupil reaction for a possible concussion.

"Jill?" Jim remembered what her husband had called her. "How's your head? Any ringing? Any numbness?"

"No…" She looked around. "What happened?"

"The plane crashed." Tim and Howard echoed together, looked at each other and looked away again.

"We got you breathing again." Grinning abashedly, Howard tried to share credit with Clancy.

"Keep her head up…" Clancy spoke to her husband. "Normal breaths, let me know if…"

"Jim!" JD called over from patching over survivors in the shade. "I'm running out of bandages!"

"I'll try and find some more in the wreckage!" Jim looked to him and back to the former TV Tool Man. "Keep her calm and out of the sun." He looked at Howard. "Try and find her some water."

"Check!" Howard noticed his buddy Rajesh wandering around twisting a cap off one of the bottles of water spilled from the plane; once it was open, he took it and gave it to Jill.

"Dude, I was going to drink that."

The shrill ringing noise from the explosion had gradually abated from the crash. Taylor had found and reunited with Natalia Boa Vista and Greg Sanders, two forensics experts from respectively Miami and Las Vegas he had met at the seminar he spoke at in Sidney. One of the other speakers at the conference had been Dr. Spenser Reid to discuss new behavioral science techniques created by the FBI. He came staggering from the surf after swimming it in, getting helped on to the beach by Kimball Cho from the California Bureau of Investigation, the same man who had saved Brady from the collapsing wing. Staggering on to the beach, Jack Hodgins looked for his wife. It had been her idea to honeymoon in Australia. He felt he was walking around in a dream that hadn't ended. Everyone was either wandering around or standing in shock over what had happened. He panned the faces of everyone around him as his cute Irish-Chinese beauty looked up, recognized him then rushed to jump into his arms.

"Maybe we should have gone to France." He told her, but she was just hysterically happy to see him alive. The worst seemed to be over. As things calmed down and Taylor had a grasp of what happened, he assessed the situation. The plane had been ripped apart in mid air by turbulence. It had to be the most shoddy factory defects in the fuselage to rip off the cockpit and the tail section, or maybe just maybe there was a death ray on the island taking down airplanes. In the linger peace several of the survivors started calling for long friends and family. Alan Harper called for his brother. Wolowitz called for his best friend, Leonard. Lily Finnerty called out for her parents.

"We're going to need a passenger manifest." Cho looked to Taylor. "We need to start identifying the lost and the dead."

"Get on it…" Taylor took unofficial status as leader. "Search the plane and the surroundings. "Sanders, you and Reid scout the beach for supplies. Could be several hours until rescue gets here."

"What do you want me to do?" Boa Vista looked for something to do. He looked at the bruise on her head and the large bleeding gash across her shoulder and chest.

"Let the doctor and the EMT check you out…" Taylor looked around again. "I don't want those getting infected." He looked over to Dorian wrapping up another woman, a blonde housewife named Cheryl Belushi from Chicago, Illinois. She and her husband Jim had also taken the second honeymoon to Sydney.

"Meanwhile, I'm going to start collecting and looking for supplies and stuff we're going to need…" He took his first breath with his adrenaline winding down. "Doc!" He handed Natalia over to Clancy. "How goes it?"

"Okay…" JD wished he were back at Sacred Heart with better more endless supplies. "Just a lot of really hurt and injured people…." He used vodka to disinfect Natalia to stretch out the alcohol for the more serious injuries. "Did you find a guy named Turk yet? He's my buddy. I kind of want to know he's okay."

"Well…" Taylor looked around the eleven to fifteen people trying to survive from their injuries then back to JD. "He's either one of those wandering in the jungle or one of the passengers who went down in the tail section." He pointed over to the ridge beyond the bay. "I saw a plume of smoke over there after the crash… and the tail section should be in that direction over there." He made a direct line with his hand between the ridge, the fuselage and the jungle.

"My wife was in the tail section…" Clancy spoke. "Think they're still alive?"

"We can hope." Taylor left Natalia in better hands. She looked to JD wrapping her arm, but he didn't have a dressing large enough for the gash in her chest, but it was so peripheral he was sure it'd heal on its own if kept clean.

"Can I go?" She looked to JD.

"Just take it easy…" The young doctor responded. A year out of his internship and he was thrust into battlefield level injuries. Survivors were banding into groups. Others were looking for their belongings. Jim sighed tiredly.

"Almost as bad as the emergency room back home…" He wondered about his wife. "Who else?"

"One more…" JD lifted the back o his shirt. The stinging pain in his side was a piece of shrapnel in his lower ribs under his arm. It was bloody and swollen.

"Your turn, doctor…" Jim reached for the last of the vodka to clean the wound after he pulled the metal out of the skin. He was also going to need more thread to patch it up and seal it. JD winced as he became the patient. Through his eyes, he saw a beautiful visage of a woman wandering out of the jungle. She had long blonde hair and a nice figure in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. A college student from Detroit, Bridget Hennessey looked at Howard and Raj staring and admiring her figure then back toward Jim patching up JD among the other survivors sitting in the shade.

"What's the matter with you guys?" She staggered a bit from landing in the jungle. "You never saw a plane crash before?"

"Well, yeah…" Howard nervously stuttered. Rajesh found another girl tugging at his hand. She was a cherubic one-and-a half-year-old blonde little princess covered in leaves and twigs. She had fallen out of the plane and had landed in bushes. Running through the jungle, she approached the first non-threatening person she had noticed. Of all the people she thought that was, little Charlie Duncan thought that was Rajesh Koothrapalli. He looked at Charlie then back to Howard.

"Well, she is a little cutie…" Howard teased.


	2. Chapter 2

2

At dusk, Taylor and Clancy had dug a few graves on a patch of higher ground over the beach and out of the tide. He wasn't burying anyone until he had identified the figures with a passenger manifest, but once they located that, several of the survivors were able to identify the dead by their seat numbers and proximity to others. Among the dead was Steven Rhodes, a former college Dean from Illinois. He had passed of internal after his arm was reset. Without proper hospital equipment, he had bled internally until his heart stopped. Mimi Bobeck was also laid to rest; the Tool Man had identified her after getting swat and hit several times by her purse during boarding. Cheryl recognized Dennis Finch from his seat; she had caught him ogling her several times. Jim very nearly came close to breaking his neck. In all, there was twenty-two dead out of forty-two passengers. From there, all everyone could do was wait and watch for rescue to arrive. None of the cell phones worked. The number of the laptops had been damaged in the crash or ruined in the saltwater. Hopefully an intact one might be found in one of the suitcases strewn in the area close to the beach.

Gradually, the darkness of dusk turned to the blackness of night. People were scavenging food from the stewardess station on the plane. If any of the crew had survived, they were not present. Looking for solace, everyone looked to Detective Taylor who shared authority with the people he knew from the forensics conference. Dr. Dorian and Jim Clancy checked and rechecked their patients. Some of them were doing fine; they just complained of soreness. Others barely moved from where they had been moved. A contractor from Chicago, Jim Belushi was bellyaching from nearly being crushed by the wing and by the stress to his arms from being pulled out from under it. He tooled up and recognized one of the other passengers as a former Detroit syndicated TV host.

"So, Tool Man…" Jim Belushi antagonized Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor. "You always said on your show you could fix anything! Well…" He waved at the wrecked fuselage. "Go for it." His face grinned sarcastically.

"With what?" Tim had been nursing his wife back from death. "The aircraft parts factory in my back pocket?"

"Hey!" Cho came between them. "Do I have to pull you idiots apart again?"

"Jim…" Both Cheryl and Jill tried to restrain their husbands. "Do you have to go around ticking everyone off?"

"I just can't sit on this beach surrounded by torches like this." Jim was as frustrated as the rest. "I left my idiot brother-in-law in charge of my company and my kids…" He counted them out on his fingers. "Do you know how much damage he could do if I'm not back in Chicago by Monday?"

Several people groaned at his ego.

"Sir…" Detective Taylor sat by the campfire constructed by the side of the grounded fuselage. "This crash inconvenienced a lot of people. It could be a day or two before rescue finds us."

"A day or two?"

"Yes…" Taylor watched as Belushi grumbled in pain from his injuries. "In the meantime…" He looked back to the others. "I think we should do all what we can to help each other out, and to do so, I think we should all get to know each other's names because we're all going to be depending on each other. To start off, I'm Detective Mac Taylor, head of forensics for the New York City police department. I was asked to do a speech for a forensics seminar in Sydney along with several colleagues and acquaintances from the field. Let me introduce Natalia Boa Vista of the Miami CSI and Greg Sanders of the Las Vegas CSI…"

The two raised their hands to the other passengers. Natalia was a stunning attractive brunette with bold brown eyes; Greg was younger with frosted blonde hair and dark roots roasting a hot dog in the fire.

"Dr. Spenser Reid of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit and Kimball Cho from the California Bureau of Investigation…" Taylor continued. Reid raised his head with a slight wave, but Cho just nodded briefly in acknowledgement.

"Jack Hodgins…" Jack and his wife shared a blanket. "This is my beautiful, Angela." She waved hello to the faces around the bonfire. "We just got married. This was supposed to be our honeymoon."

"Ours too…" Cheryl added in. "I'm Cheryl Belushi, a home maker from Chicago, and, well… you met my husband, Jim. We have three kids back home."

"Tim and Jill Taylor from Indiana…" Jill spoke up for her husband too. "Well, originally from Detroit, but my practice is in Indiana…" She paused. "I'm a psychologist."

"Teddy Duncan from Denver, and this is my sister, Charlie." The girl was reunited with her sister but not her family. "We were visiting cousins in Melbourne." She wondered about the rest of her family.

"Maddie Fitzpatrick…"Another cute blonde spoke up. "Candy girl for the Hotel Tipton in Boston." She paused tiredly huddled in a blanket. "I was following my friend, London Tipton, to a fashion show in Australia, but I ended up here and she ended up on a flight to Austria!"

"Lily Finnerty, Staten Island…" The redhead spoke up. "I was with three friends on college break. You know London Tipton? She's like the dumbest person in the world!"

"Bridget Hennessey, Detroit, also on college break…" The hot blonde was uncomfortable with Howard and Rajesh comparing her to another blonde they knew. "I heard she once gave away a limousine because it was dirty!" She looked back to the Cal-Tech geeks. "Would you guys stop staring at me?"

"Sorry…" Howard looked through the faces. "I'm Howard Wolowitz from the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena; this is my best friend and colleague, Dr. Rajesh Koothrapalli."

"I've noticed your friend never talks." Dr. Reid spoke up. "Is he mute?"

"No, he talks…" Howard explained. "But he's got a nervous condition around beautiful women. He can't talk around them."

"The poor guy…" Cheryl gave Rajesh a motherly rib of support to his arm, but instead of taking it as a maternal gesture, Howard felt a stirring in his hormones that he tried to hide.

"Dr. Alan Harper…" The chiropractor spoke up reunited with his son from the jungle. "My son, Jake…"

"Hello…" The boy looked around.

"We were doing a father-son thing together."

"Except we lost my Uncle Charlie on the plane. He was…"

"Jake, let's not regale them in what Uncle Charlie was doing in front of mixed company." Alan interrupted.

"JD…" Dr. Dorian spoke up. "Dr. John Dorian… but you can call me JD." He swooned toward Bridget. "I pretty patched most of you up."

"Yeah…" The EMT now stood up to stretch his feet. "I'm Jim Clancy from Grandview, Pennsylvania. My…" He choked up a bit. "My wife and I were taking a vacation. She was among the people in the tail section…"

"Peter Brady, accountant…" Another interjected while nodded his head. "I was best man for a wedding."

"MacGyver…" An older figure with shorn brown and graying hair stepped from the darkness bringing more firewood.

"MacGyver what?"

"Just MacGyver…" He was a bit sensitive about his first name. "I'm retired from the Phoenix Foundation. I'm a professional scoutmaster and survivalist and just my two bits…" He looked toward Mac and the standing surviving forensic specialists. "We need to move in land to find freshwater, because eventually all those bottles of water you're drinking from the plane are going to run out."

"Shouldn't we stay near the plane?" The Tool Man asked.

"No, he's right…" Mac Taylor spoke up. "We need to get together all we can salvage from the fuselage and make camp somewhere in-land under the trees where we'll be out of the sun. The fuselage will probably stay in the open for another week until the tides wash it out, but we can leave markers out here for the rescuers to find us. Before that, we need to identify and bury the dead."

"Why?" Peter looked around. "Won't their families want to bury them back home? Why bury them if we're going to dig them up later?"

"You ever smelled human decomposition when it's been out in the sun." Jack spoke up. "It's not very pleasant."

"That…" MacGyver spoke up. "And several of the South Pacific islands have wild hog populations distributed by the Maori and Oceanic Aborigines to these islands. They're going to smell the decomposing bodies and get attracted to them. People could get hurt on their tusks when they go hunting."

"How long do you think it will take for rescue to find us?" Jill spoke up cuddled up next to her husband.

"In 1979, it took only three days to find Pan Am Fight 18 after it went down in the Philippines…" Reid had an eidetic memory to allow him to recall and produce information. "Seventy-two people survived out of a hundred and twenty, but the longest would be five months and twelve days after a passenger plane vanished off radar and crashed in the desolate Canadian wilderness. In that case, there were only…"

"Five months?" Belushi was complaining again. "Five months? I can't be on this island for that long, I've got…"

"Hey!" Cho glared toward him. "If you don't stop complaining, I'm going to up your morphine."

"I didn't give him any morphine." JD spoke up. "Everyone's pretty much on pain-killers."

"You know…" Teddy spoke up and stroked her baby sister's blonde hair. "Despite the fact I was sewed up with a needle and thread, I'm not in a lot of pain. What kind of pain killers were those?"

"Yeah…" Brady rubbed his head. "My headache went away over an hour ago!"

"We got lucky." Clancy looked around the band of patched up and stitched up passengers in the dreamy red and orange glow of the bonfire then gazed into the dancing flames on the blacked firewood and thought of his wife somewhere hopefully alive in the jungle.

"I know we're all concerned with getting rescued…" Detective Taylor continued. "But the best way to get found will be if I can find the transponder from the cockpit." He took a deep breath. "Right now, rescue teams are somewhere out there combing hundreds of acres on our course looking for us. With the transponder sending a signal, it will make it a lot easier for them to find us." He looked to Cho. "I'll stand sentry tonight, Cho, you can relieve me at midnight. In the morning, I'll head out toward the ridge where I saw the…"

A loud noise came from the woods and forty-two heads turned to the sound behind them in the woods. It sounded like a foghorn at first, but it sounded more biological. It couldn't be biological because a mechanical device would stick to a solitary frequency instead of a variation of pitches on top of each other. Several yards away, they saw the high trees twitching and moving, getting pulled down and snapping back up. It had to be large. They heard tree branches getting snapped and breaking. To be as loud as they were, they had to be thick to be heard at a distance. That revelation made the survivors realize something large and unnatural was moving through the woods scouting them out at a distance. Lily started pulling Rajesh closer as she got scared; Bridget started leaning closer to Howard, a cocky and dirty grin coming to his lips. The creature bellowed again and Detective Taylor and MacGyver shared confused gazes. Whatever it was, it getting further away, but they never saw a thing… just distant and constant darkness.

"Well…" Belushi grinned through his pain. "At least I'm not planning on going in the jungle!"


	3. Chapter 3

3

"There are numerous reasons why it couldn't be a dinosaur…" Reid had chose to follow Detective Taylor and Natalia into the woods to look for the cockpit. "For one, there have never been any fossilized remnants of dinosaurs past the end of the Late Cretaceous…" He followed Natalia down the dry creek into the jungle on the other side. "And besides, many of these South Pacific Islands were created mostly out of volcanic and coral ash following the last ice age. The best candidates would be a giant tree sloth, many of which grew up to…"

"Reid…" Taylor stopped and looked at him. "I want to thank you very much for volunteering to come along to help find the cockpit, but I never said it was a dinosaur so the Animal Planet lecture along the way is entirely optional."

Natalia stood by drinking from her canteen.

"I was just trying to pass the time by sharing some knowledge." Reid abashedly stopped and took the moment to sip from his canteen as well. "Sometimes conversation helps make the time go by faster."

"Okay…" Mac looked way away then back to the young prodigy. "How about telling us about your friends and family back home? What are they like?"

"Well…" Their pause ended and Taylor started leading again as Reid talked. "My only family is my mother, and she lives in a rest home, but I guess you could call my team in the bureau my extended family. Jason's been like a brother to me."

"Jason Gideon?" Mac asked as he continued forward and around brush, weeds, high grass and tall trees in a canopy that blacked out the sun from reaching the ground. They were following what seemed to be a path to the bottom of the ridge. They weren't sure why there would be a path if the island were deserted, but it gave them hope there might be life on the island.

"Yeah." Reid responded.

"I met Jason at a speech he once gave in Manhattan on profiling." Mac stopped at a spot where the trail seemed to end at a clearing. "He impressed me with his analytic approach on investigations." He stopped, pulled out a canteen and sipped some water before sharing it with Spencer and Natalia.

"How old do you think the path is?" She looked back. "You'd think it would have grown over after a year or two."

"Boars could keep it worn down…" Taylor thought of similar trails he had experienced while in military duty in Southeast Asia. "No to mention our mysterious friend from last night…" He looked onward and off the ledge clearing where the ridge dropped over thirty feet to the jungle floor. "Okay, let's back track to where we passed those fallen trees. I think we can get down up there."

Over the ridge behind them and down in the middle valley of the island, the man named MacGyver and Jack Hodgins had another agenda and were hunting to find naturally growing sustainable plants and freshwater in the jungle. Using a shoelace from a shoe and the branch, he had created a bow and with a few more branches and sharp pieces of slate he had created arrows. It wasn't perfect, but he had used it to take down the smaller of two wild boars he and Jack had surprised in the clearing. He hoisted the smaller of the two boars up to his shoulders to haul back to camp just as Hodgins came around and through the brush beaming and opening his pack.

"_Pleurotus ostrreatus_…" Hodgins beamed. "The oyster mushroom… very edible, a delicacy if dipped and fried in egg."

"If you know where we can find some eggs…" MacGyver tied up the second hog carcass to pull behind him back to the beach.

"Did you find any water?"

"I followed a nice stream up to a pool at the base of the north ridge." MacGyver closed his Swiss Army knife. "There are some caves up there I think might make a safe and cool communal area off the beach." He peered toward the direction of it with a slight gesture to their direction. "Down there, I found a large ship in the jungle."

"A ship?" Jack lit up excitedly. "You mean we're saved? We're…" He did a double take. "Did you say in the jungle?"

"Yeah…" Mac hauled the sack of vegetables and roots over his shoulder but dragged the boar as he walked. "I'll show it to you on the way back to the beach. Looks like there's a lot of crates and cargo in it so maybe we can salvage part of it, but from the condition of it, I'd say it was dumped in land by a huge tidal wave at least a century or two ago."

"You think it's seaworthy?"

"Not with a big hole in the side…" MacGyver and Jack bonded over common interests and a wish to be rescued. "Besides, even if we could patch it and get it through the jungle to the water, I wouldn't trust an old schooner that's been rotting and decaying in the hot jungle for over a century." He paused to pull the boar along with him. "No, it's value is going to be in what we can out of it."

"Shame…" Jack scanned and watched the plants on the hill for anything edible he might have missed. "It wasn't named Mary Celeste, was it?"

"No, Black Rock…." MacGyver chucked a bit. "Besides the Mary Celeste was Mid-Atlantic." Jack suddenly stopped and noticed more wild onions. He started pulling several up by hand, but the older more mature ones were more rooted in the dirt. He tugged and pulled on them, but they wouldn't give.

"Here," MacGyver pulled his knife out again. "Try my knife…" He tossed it to Jack, but it sailed just a few inches past his hand. When it hit ground, it made a metallic clank on something in the ground. It didn't sound real. Jack and MacGyver looked at each other.

"That wasn't ground…" He loved new discoveries. "What else have we found?" He started stomping and tapping the ground until he found the area of the noise. MacGyver found it first. It was a metal door covered in grass, foliage and long wild reeds. Around it was a base of concrete. In the door was an opaque glass along with a rusty and ruined lock mechanism. It looked like the sealed entrance to a possible deserted old World War Two bunker, but what was it doing here and why had it been deserted?

On the other side of the ridge, Mac, Natalie and Reid had used long vines and descending roots to descend to the bottom of the jungle floor and were hiking through a forest of long thin trees that reached fifty feet over their heads. The trunks were long and stout, but the tops all interlocked into a massive canopy of foliage of leaves. It was like the forest scene of "The Wizard of Oz" as seen by Tim Burton. The forest floor was roughly flat, a fallen tree here and there from a break in the overhead canopy. It was dark except for the pinpricks of sunlight breaking the canopy overhead. It was like wandering through a giant fake forest of nails holding up a thick lush blanket of dark to mild green. From the edges of this shadowy unearthly domain, Mac suddenly stopped.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Natalie asked.

"Voices…" Mac stopped and looked around. "I heard whispering." He gestured to Reid not to talk, but Natalia must have heard it too because she suddenly cocked her head up to where Mac was peering. There were very distant whispering sounds in the area; the sort of distorted incoherent noises you didn't get from a forest. There was not another person in site. Reid came up alongside Natalia trying to understand them. They were being haunted.

"It sounds…" Reid tried diffusing the noise in his head. "Like several voices overlapping… somehow imprinted in the air."

"How's that possible?" Natalia reacted alarmed. "What… who's causing it?"

Mac saw a shadow in the distance.

"Over there!" He bolted and ran as fast as he could. In the distance the trees changed, and the forest and brush wrapped around them once more. Strewn in the leaves and decaying plant life was the human detritus from the plane crash. Clothes caught in trees, a random plane seat, trees torn down by the missing plane engine, a fight attendant's cart on its side, a disheveled crate from baggage, more plane parts and a section of landing gear. Mac slowed as the ground dipped and folded. Natalia tried keeping up with him by going around a huge conifer tree. The trees ahead were large, as thick as California redwoods but with vines growing up around them. Their roots ripped and tore the ground apart making it uneven. Up ahead was a flash of light reflecting sunlight in the dingy jungle growth. Just twenty feet from the lost cockpit, Mac stopped and spun around looking for the shadow he had been changing.

"Did you see it?" Mac looked around. "Where'd it go?"

"What?" Natalia turned around looking.

"I saw a man." Mac was trying to find his quarry. "He was fast and wiry, dressed in black… As soon as I started getting close to him, he'd pop up again several feet away."

"Maybe it was an illusion…"

"It wasn't an illusion." Mac stared Reid down then turned to the ruined cockpit. The rear edges of it were ripped and shredded as if a giant had twisted it apart from the rest of the plane. The nose had fallen into the fork of a huge tree holding it up at an angle as a giant wounded metal bird that had lay down and died. The plane had severed at the first class station. The ground around it was littered in plane trays, magazines, small liquor bottles and everything else.

"Reid," Mac paused ashamed at snapping at him. "Look through the wreckage around here for things we might be able use. Try to find a first aid kit and medicine. Natalia and I will climb up inside the cockpit and try and find the transponder." He looked to her sweaty and dirty in her white shirt and jeans. "Ladies first…"

"My knight in shining armor…" She made a face and Reid began searching over the objects littered around them. Past the ripped and distorted fuselage and the loose avionic gear hanging in their faces, the CSI tech and the CSI detective climbed a steep angle up into first class. It was like a futuristic dimly lit mausoleum. It was empty and deserted with three passengers still trapped in their seats. Pulling themselves up on the seats, Natalia checked the first one and Mac checked the second and third. Still trapped in their seats, the lost passengers sat dead in the spots where they had breathed their last. Mac checked a wallet. Dim light poked in through the side windows.

"Carter McKay, Dallas businessman…" He commented.

"No identification over here." Natalia echoed as Mac struggled and climbed to the last.

"Margo Freshwater… entertainment manager…" He stepped on the braces of the seats and climbed up the interior a bit higher. Everything that had been loose up here was now all pilled up in the back wall of the front attendants station. Running out of things to pull himself up on, Mac reached up and pulled himself by the hanging door of a microwave then lifting his leg up to step onto a thin ledge on the counter above. He then pulled Natalia up to his level. The door to the cockpit was over their heads. In his hand, Mac pulled a piece of iron support from the fuselage and wedged it in the door to force it open. It wasn't easy; he was still holding on with his other hand to keep from falling down the middle of the plane. Natalia held on to him as Mac suddenly took his hand and struck his improvised tool. The door buckled just a bit and broke open dropping something past them. It was large and fast, and it vanished before they could see it.

"What was that?" Natalia asked.

"I think it was the body of the navigator." Mac looked up into the blast of light through the cockpit. Peering up to the control panel, he pulled himself up into the room littered with strewn flight charts. The pilot and co-pilot were still in their seats. Mac checked the pulse of one. That man was dead.

"Where would this transponder…"

The other pilot groaned. Mac quickly pulled his radio gear off him and checked his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Mac undid his seat belt. "Do you know your name?"

"Jay-James…" The blue-eyed pilot was slow to respond. "James Ubriacco…"

"James, I'm detective Mac Taylor from New York." Mac introduced him. "This is Natalia Boa Vista from Miami. We're two of the surviving passengers from your flight. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Not sure…." James was so glad to see another face. He'd been falling in and out of consciousness for what seemed like days, and when he tried to move, he got weak from his injuries and passed out again. "We were at 25,000 feet and descended to 18,000 to avoid head winds, and the co-pilot reported traffic over the radio. It sounded as if we were picking up chatter, but the second we asked for identification, we got hit…" Mac handed him his canteen to drink from. "Uhhh…" James gasped from the water. "Did anyone find us?"

"Not yet…" Mac looked to Natalia and back to James. "We need the transponder so we can get found."

"It's right here." James pointed to the console where it was. "But we may have a problem. Halfway to Los Angeles the compass and radio failed and we left the guidance system to control the plane. We could be anywhere from fifty to five hundred miles off course. They're going to be looking for us in the wrong place."

"This transponder better have a golden ticket to Los Angeles with it." Natalia commented with a reference to a movie. Mac helped James out of his seat to descend down with him. His left leg was at weird angle and possibly broken. Clancy and Dorian would have to fix that, but first, they had to get back to camp and that would mean going to the shore and following it around the ridge. Outside the plane, Reid collected several of the alcohol bottles and objects he felt could be utilized in other means. The loose leaves picked up around him in the breeze and blew around him. The trees swayed, and he turned around to watch the tips moving over his head. With the gust of wind, the loud roar from last night returned.

"What was that?" James asked inside the plane.

"It's our friend from last night." Mac froze as he and Natalia froze on the back wall of the cockpit. As they waited, something struck the side of the wrecked plane, and Mac immediately thought of Reid. He hoped the kid was okay, but whatever was trying to get at them knew where they were and how to get them. The cockpit shook again and the body of the dead co-pilot slumped over in his seat and dropped his pasty pale face over the back of his seat at them. Natalia braced hard as Mac and James fell backward. The glass windshield shattered on the tree it was up against, spilling a torrent of glass pellets, leafy brush and twigs into the plane. Mac held on to James trying to save him, but the tree limbs poking into the cockpit poked over and around him and James and suddenly grabbed him away. Mac never saw a thing. It looked as of James had been pulled by something in the branches or by the branches themselves. The roaring continued joined by the wind rustling through the air and joined by the sounds of gunshots. What was happening? James was there one minute and gone the next. Mac took Natalia first and dropped her down to safety. Shoving the transponder into his inside jacket pocket, he rushed to join her. Mac had heard of poltergeist attacks, but he had never encountered one.

"Reid!" Natalia saw the young BAU agent with a gun. "Where'd you get that?!"

"I think it belonged to the Air Marshall!" Reid was aiming into the tree over their heads.

"Let me have it!" Mac took it from him. "Run for the beach!" He covered them as Reid grabbed his pack with the stuff he collected, and Mac turned round examining his surroundings. The wind was blowing leaves, dust and dust up around him, but how do you kill a windstorm? The roaring came from behind him, and he fired two shots into the air where it had come from. There was a sound like pots and pans being struck together, a deep grumbling from within the earth and he fell victim to his self-preservation and ran up to catch up with Reid and Natalia. Running blind, the attractive female detective stumbled once in a creek, lifted herself up and ran as fast as she could thinking a wild animal was after her. The wind changed direction and blew the dust into her face and up under her. Running through the leaves and debris, she jumped down into another creek and backed to hide under the eave of a tree growing at an angle. From far away, the clanging noise seemed to be fading away joined by an odd rhythmic clicking. Struggling to catch her breath, she heard the noises fading further and further away, the wind dying down with it. On her other side, Mac caught up with her, spun around gun drawn then drew back.

"Natalia…" Mac looked at her and around. He saw open field beyond the tall stalk trees. "Are you okay? Where's Reid?"

"I don't know…" Her chest was heaving trying to catch her breath. She had never run like that before. "I think I lost him."

"I'm here…" Reid was somehow on the other bank despite having been left behind; he was struggling with a heavy pack and a cloth sack he was carrying. "I found someone…" He looked straight up. Up above them in the tree Natalia had chosen to hide behind them was body clutched in the branches. It had a white shirt and blank pants, and it hung loosely no longer alive. It was the body of the slain pilot.


End file.
